


Love Job

by cherryvanilla



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Related, Community: ae_match, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-17
Updated: 2011-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: "He gets to stand around pretending he isn’t waiting for Arthur, pretending Arthur wasn’t getting his own bag to put on Eames’ cart and they weren’t catching a connecting flight to Bora Bora so they could fuck each other’s brains out on a sandy white beach."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Job

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this manip](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v425/pablohoney279/airport.jpg) by (which I had no idea was a manip until after I wrote this :D)
> 
> Thanks to Foxxcub for beta :)

Eames watches discreetly as Arthur looks at Dom. He can already picture the bemused expression gracing Arthur’s face. To be honest he’s a bit impatient but, he’ll allow Arthur his small, wordless good-bye. After all, he has him all to himself for an indefinite amount of time after this.

“Dom’s on a plane to see you,” Arthur told him. “I tried to convince him otherwise, but you know Dom.”

Eames knocked back the last off his whiskey and swung his legs onto his bed, crossing them at the ankles. “Ashamed to be seen with me, love?”

He could practically hear the eye roll over the phone. “Don’t be inane, Eames, it doesn’t suit you.”

Eames smiled and slid his hand over his bare chest, teasingly. “We working together, then?”

“Yes, and you know the rules.” Arthur’s voice was stern, no nonsense; Christ, he missed hearing that voice in bed.

Eames bit his lip and his hand slipped lower. “Not ashamed, you say, yet all of these rules. ‘Eames, don’t touch me on a job. Eames, don’t call me endearments on a job. Eames, don’t bloody smile at me on a job.’ Really, Arthur.”

He wasn’t angry but bemused at Arthur’s desperate life goal to always keep business and pleasure separate. “People die that way. Distractions occur and lives are lost,” Arthur had told him once. Eames recalled it was shortly after Mal died.

“I don’t recall that last one,” Arthur grumbled, and Eames jerked back to the here and now.

Eames smiled fondly since Arthur couldn’t see him. “You get the idea. Alright, I’ll join your little job, you’ll pretend I’m a vile human being, I’ll goad you to no end, and then we’ll go somewhere and fuck until it’s time for the next one.”

Arthur was silent for a moment. “What if I told you this is the biggest job you’ll ever pull and I’m not going to feel like working for a while afterwards.”

Eames blinked. Not working was not Arthur’s style. He loved to keep moving, keep busy, while Eames thrived on petty theft and some dreamwork here and there, but nothing as steady as Arthur’s regimen. For longer than he could recall he tried to get Arthur to take an extended vacation. Hell he even subtly hinted that Arthur should maybe-sorta-kinda move in.

“I’d ask you to go on those websites of yours and pick a location with our own private beach so I can shag you on it day and night,” he finally said.

“Eames..” Arthur’s voice was suddenly thick and Eames’ cock took interest.

Eames uncrossed his legs and slid lower down the pillows. “Tell me you won’t make me wait until after this bloody job is over.”

“You know the rules.” Eames could hear the quiver in his voice, the weakness of that sentence.  
“Sod the rules. You’ll be more distracted thinking about how much you want to fuck me.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, there,” Arthur laughed, shakily.

“Tell me you aren’t aching for it,” Eames purred, his hand cupping his now throbbing erection through his shorts.

He listened as Arthur sighed. “Fuck, you know I am,” voice low, like a secret.

“I miss you,” Eames said, and then reeled at his own words. He hadn’t intended say them; he meant to say something hot and dirty. But instead, he thrust his still covered erection up against the palm of his hand and moaned out, “I miss you.”

“I,” Arthur started, and Eames could already see his double take. “I miss you, too.”

Eames’ hips stilled at that and he found himself running a hand nervously through his hair. “Yeah?”

Arthur barked out a short laugh. “Yeah, asshole.” Eames loved his damn American accent. “I always miss you,” he added, quietly.

This was on its way to, as Vince from Queer as Folk would say, a Love Job, Eames reckoned, and that wasn’t going to do; not tonight when he’s alone in his bed, drinking and lonely with only Arthur’s voice. No, if that… if those words would be uttered Eames would damn well have Arthur by his side so he could snog him breathless.

Eames cleared his throat. “Yes, well. I’m sure I’ll receive such a lovely greeting, insults and annoyed looks galore.”

“I’ll let you smile at me, how’s that?”

Eames could hear the grin in his voice. He pretends to think about it. “Only if you smile back.”

“Deal. Now are we having phone sex or not? It’s 3am over here.”

Eames couldn’t argue with that.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Now he’s at LAX and the biggest job of his life (Arthur, for once, didn’t exaggerate) was complete. He gets to stand around pretending he isn’t waiting for Arthur, pretending Arthur wasn’t getting his own bag to put on Eames’ cart and they weren’t catching a connecting flight to Bora Bora so they could fuck each other’s brains out on a sandy white beach.

Cobb passes him by, stunned surprise written all over his face. Eames smirks a little to himself; he knew it would work. He taps his finger against the hand cart and when he looks up Arthur is walking in his direction, a huge smile on his face. Eames has to stop from looking behind himself – maybe he’s smiling at Ariadne? Yusuf? But no, Arthur’s walking right up to him, placing his luggage on the cart and smiling so wide his dimples must hurt.

Eames does look around that time. Cobb’s just walked through to Miles but Ariadne and Yusuf are still in the vicinity. He thought for sure Arthur would play it cool until they were alone. Eames frowns at him.

“Are you concussed? Do you need a clinic?”

Arthur shakes his head, looking utterly amused. “I told you I’d smile at you.”  
Ah. Well. “You’ve already done that a few times this job, love. I think you’ve met your quota. Do try not to strain yourself for my sake.”

Arthur places his hand on top of Eames’. Eames looks at him questioningly; all the while his heart is pounding from the touch.

“We’re off the clock indefinitely. This is me without a set of rules.”

Eames meets his gaze, reads the sincerity in his eyes mixed with a sliver of uncertainty. He realizes in all the years they’ve been doing this he’s never seen an Arthur who didn’t have the next job lined up, never witnessed an Arthur who didn’t live by his age old work ethic.

Eames drags Arthur in by his waist, and kisses him, just to see if he can. Arthur opens to him immediately, moaning into his mouth. Eames bites at his lips the way he’s wanted for months. Arthur’s still smiling when Eames releases him but it's a dazed smile.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eames murmurs.

Eames pushes the cart toward their next departure gate. Arthur keeps looking at him out of the corner of his eye as they walk and Eames thinks he wants to say something. Then he finally catches on that Arthur has four pieces of luggage as opposed to Eames’ one.

“Uh, did you steal something I don’t know about?”

Arthur keeps staring straight ahead. “While you were in Sydney, I took a brief trip back to Chicago.”

So Arthur went back home. Eames still isn’t getting it. He waves his hand, willing Arthur to elaborate.

Arthur sighs. “Jesus, Eames. After Bora Bora I’m uh. I thought I’d come stay with you. In Mombasa.”

Bloody hell. He has to stop himself from making a scene, from performing a public declaration of love right in the middle of LAX.

“Perhaps that was presumptuous of me,” Arthur says, and Eames can hear the irritability in his voice.

Eames leans in close and flicks his tongue against Arthur’s earlobe as they continue to walk. “You’d better be prepared to join the mile high club; otherwise I’m defiling you in a restroom right now.”

Eames can feel Arthur shudder as he bites down, pulling the lobe between his teeth.

“I’m agreeable to either,” he says, voice just this side of breathless.

Eames groans and picks up the pace a little. “Plane. Now. If we miss it you won’t be leaving an L.A. hotel room for days.”

Arthur turns his head, another brilliant smile gracing his face. “I can’t say I’d mind,” voice deep and flirty.

Eames’ cock twitches and he tries to think of a good reason not to find a taxi stand right now. Then an image of Arthur spread out beneath him on blanket, framed against white sand and clear blue water floods his mind. He slaps Arthur on the arse and nearly sprints to the gate.

[end]


End file.
